Safe As Houses
by K.P. Brooks
Summary: "What kind of people bring a child into…into this?" Before the betrayal, James confides in his friend.


His hair, unruly at the best of times, stood up from his head as if petrified. James convulsively ran his hands through it one more time before sliding his fingers under his glasses to rub vigorously at his eyes. There was a slight tightness right between his eyebrows that promised to burgeon into one knocker of a headache before the night was through.

"She's pregnant, Sirius."

If he thought that saying it out loud would make it any more manageable, he would've been sorely mistaken.

Once out of his mouth the words seemed to swell in the room, absorbing all the oxygen. He couldn't breathe.

"Fantastic. Is it yours?"

James jerked, sending his glasses clattering to the floor.

"What kind of …mine… yes, of _course its bloody well –" _

Finding his glasses he shoved them unceremoniously in place, his glare meeting Sirius's expansive grin.

"Sirius, at the best of times, you are a _complete_ arse. I reckoned you should know that."

Sirius contrived to look hurt. "You know, you're not the first person to tell me that. Nor the second."

"It's unanimous, then," James muttered, watching Sirius kick his feet up onto the coffee table. Lily would have kittens if she saw that. Lily. Christ.

He swallowed hard and felt something click in the back of his throat. Needing something to derail his train of thought he reached for the decanter of whiskey atop the table and promptly knocked it over.

Sirius jerked his leather-clad feet out of the way as the amber liquid spread across the table surface and began pooling on the floor.

Swearing fluently under his breath, James reached for his wand and repaired the bottle. Sirius summoned a towel from the kitchen and threw it to him.

"Thanks," he said. "Lily would – she would –" He found he could say no more and continued to clean in silence.

After a while –minutes or hours, he couldn't tell which – Sirius's voice shook him from his dark thoughts.

"Pretty sure you've got it all."

James looked down. Indeed, he'd been wiping dry floor. His eyes prickled threateningly and the image of himself curled up on the couch, crying in front of another grown man seared through his mind.

"A baby," he said, not liking the empty tin-can sound of his voice. "Now. Of all times."

He chanced a look at the man before him. "What am I – are _we _– supposed to do?"

Sirius, absently turning his glass of whiskey in both hands, studied the floor.

"You're going to be a father. You're going to raise your kid and teach them right from wrong and do all the things fathers are supposed to do."

"It's not that simple, Padfoot," James replied flatly, shaking his head.

"Actually, I think it is, mate." Sirius leaned forward, setting his glass on the table. Out of habit James reached down and reset the tumbler atop a coaster. Sirius grinned.

"Domesticated." He shook his head in mock disgust. "I'm disappointed in you, Prongs."

Sobering at the look of James's face he continued in earnest. "In a few months time this is going to happen whether you like it or not."

James's head snapped up. "It's not a question of me _liking _it or not, Sirius!"

He slammed his hand down onto the tabletop with unwarranted force, stood and stormed over to the bay window overlooking the garden. The street beyond the garden fence was deserted and dark.

"I suppose you haven't noticed, because you haven't mentioned it," he said quietly. "It's stupid, really, but we don't have any curtains in this house. Not a single one. Do you know why?"

Sirius, who nearly always had a retort, remained silent.

"Lily had a dream one night that she heard tapping at the bedroom window. She goes over and opens the hangings and _he_'s there, floating in mid-air, staring back at her. She woke up screaming bloody murder. I woke up and cursed a hole right through the bedroom door. Took down all the curtains the next morning. So we could see _him_ coming."

Sirius sat back in his chair, looking ill.

"At night neither of us can sleep until we cast every protective spell we know. Even with the Fidelius. We both sleep with our wands next to us."

He walked a few paces to the front door and slapped angrily at the lock chain there. "Lily…she insists on locking this bloody _chain_! Every night! As if a string of metal is going to keep the Dark Lord at bay!"

He heard the slight hysterical note in his own voice and winced. Rallying himself, he endeavored for equanimity.

"People are dying left and right. You know. Being kidnapped and tortured and god knows what else. What kind of people bring a child into…into _this_?"

He felt as if any energy he had was being drained out like someone had reached inside of him and pulled the plug. He slumped against the wall, shuddering.

Sirius's hand was warm and firm on his back, his voice hearty and reassuring. "Look …things are a right shit-tip, now. We both know that. But it's not as bad as you think…we have the Order –"

He spun on his heel to face Sirius who recoiled slightly.

"He is _out there, _Sirius. Everyday his numbers grow greater and our defenses weaker. He is _out there_ and he is _looking for us._"

"He won't ever find you, James," he replied vehemently. "Not with Dumbledore's charm. Not with the Fidelius."

James's laugh was hollow, void of all mirth. "He's searching for you too, old friend. Don't pretend like Lily and I are the only ones sleeping with our wands."

Sirius acquiesced. "You're not. Remus and I haven't stayed in the same place for more than a week. He's somewhere in the French countryside."

At this James groaned miserably and let his head fall back against the wall. The ache between his eyes stepped it up a notch.

"On assignment," Sirius rushed on. "An assignment he agreed to, James. We all knew the risks when we joined the Order. He isn't doing anything against his will. And neither am I, for that matter. I would die before…"

"And that's supposed to make me feel better," James said, surprised at the force behind his words. "That my friends would, and probably _are going to_, die for me?"

"It should." Sirius considered him for a long moment; reached for his glass, drained it, and set it down on the table with a resounding thump. "Does she know…does Lily know how this is affecting you?"

"No," James said quickly, shooting a furtive glance out the window. "She doesn't. We haven't talked much since…since-"

"Right. Well, that's a relief, at least. I can't imagine she'd be very reassured by how you're acting, James, to be completely honest."

James recoiled as if Sirius had struck him. "How I'm _acting_?"

Sirius nodded. "Like an idiot."

"Idiot?" His fingers twitched towards his wand and Sirius's eyebrows rose threateningly.

"Don't be stupid, mate. In the state you're in you'd probably blow yourself up. But then again, you'd probably be more use to Lily dead than how you're acting now. So on second thought, have a go." He spread his arms wide, face drawn tight with anger.

There was an overwrought, dreadful silence in which the two friends stared each other down. Finally, James shook his head and looked away.

Sirius did not appear all together relieved. He turned and strode into the kitchen, banging the door shut behind him. James resumed his vigil over the garden only looking up when he heard the indistinct sound of a woman's voice from the kitchen, punctuated by the terse resonance of Sirius's replies.

Sirius came back into the room holding a large cup of steaming liquid which he pressed into James's numb hands. His face was drawn and pale.

"That was Lily. She's fine," he added quickly as James sloshed tea over the rim of the cup. "Sent her Patronus. Said she'll be home in a few, there was an incident with Frank and Alice."

"The Longbottoms?" James set the mug down on the windowsill quickly. "What is it? What happened?"

"Death Eaters. Apparently they attacked some Muggle neighbors of theirs so Frank and Alice went to help. They're okay, considering. One of the neighbors is dead, though. Got caught up in the crossfire. Hestia and Mad-Eye are escorting the rest of them to St. Mungo's. Moody's insisting that she go home. She didn't sound too chuffed. Drink that," he added firmly.

James drank heavily. The tea was strong, but not strong enough to mask the liberal amount of firewhiskey Sirius had added. Warmth surged through him, sending shivers up his spine.

"She shouldn't be out patrolling anymore," he said, after draining his glass. "She should be staying home. Doing something safe. Knitting or whatever. "

Sirius snorted. "Hah! I'd like to be here when you tell her that. She'd probably make what she did to Yaxley look like a kindness in comparison."

James couldn't help but smile.

"She's the bravest witch I know, mate. And you're one of the bravest blokes. You've got every right to be scared, James, and I'm scared for you, I swear to god I am."

James nodded. He felt old. Old and scared. And ashamed. Sirius, for all his sarcasm and nonchalant talk, was risking just as much as himself. Possibly more. There was a good chance that Voldemort had learned that they had enlisted the help of the Fidelius Charm to keep their whereabouts hidden, and if so there was absolutely no chance that he wouldn't be aware of Sirius's part in that.

What was more, Sirius's whole family was against him. He was a traitor to them. A disgrace to the family name. Besides himself, Remus, Peter and the Order…Sirius had no one. No wife. No children.

A nasty, corrosive thought entered his mind: _No ties. No weaknesses. No one to use against him. It's a mercy, really._

He manhandled the thought out of his brain and stared at the man across from him. Sirius had always been carelessly handsome, easily likeable; exceptionally smart…everything that any man wanted to be. And yet, underneath that finely cultivated veneer of strength his old friend appeared haggard, strained and gaunt. And much, much older than his twenty-one years.

James wondered when the last time was that Sirius had felt safe. Had slept in his own bed with the warm yielding body of a woman to comfort him.

He thought of asking, but admitted to himself that he might not want to hear the answer. Besides, knowing Padfoot he would probably launch into some long and lewd, if not entirely accurate, account of the feisty witches he was bedding on his frequent journeys around the country.

"I'm being a git, aren't I," James asked aloud, smiling wistfully.

"I'll say."

"I wouldn't have hexed you, you know?" He had the good graces to color slightly but Sirius only laughed and waved him off.

"Like you could've if you wanted to. I would've been more worried if it were Wormtail!"

James contrived to look mortally offended but upon meeting each other's eyes they collapsed into laughter. Sobering a little James asked, "Speaking of Wormy, what was it that…"

A sharp crack issued from the kitchen. Both men wheeled around wands held aloft, the traces of laughter no longer visible on their lips.

"James, love, I didn't know Padfoot…"

Lily's voice and smile faltered as she pushed into the sitting room. Sirius' wand hand dropped but James' did not.

"The first meal we ever ate in this house, what was it?"

"Breakfast cereal. You scorched the spaghetti sauce beyond mending."

James lowered his wand. "It's a precaution," he explained to Sirius' bewildered look. "No one is supposed to be able to Apparate here besides us, but we do it just in case."

Recovering himself, Sirius grinned at Lily. "I guessed that. But I was just wondering how you managed to _burn _spaghetti. Not that hard to cook, is it?"

He ducked as James aimed a swat at his head. Laughing, Lily embraced him and at once demanded to know if he had eaten.

"Don't worry," she assured him, a smile pulling at her lips. "James isn't cooking."

"I'd love to stay, Lil, I really would. Merlin knows I could do with a home cooked meal," – at this James felt an uncomfortable tug of guilt – "but I've got to get back on the road again. Duty calls and all that."

"So that's your bike by the shed." She nodded, grimly. "Your friend over here wanted one as well."

She threw a mock glare at James who shrugged sheepishly. "And as if roaring around the countryside on nothing but a stick of metal wasn't bad enough, he wanted one that _flew!"_

At this Sirius became exceptionally interested in the ceiling.

"I thought so," she said, not without a gleam of laughter in her eyes. "As if there wasn't enough…well, anyways…"

She cast a surreptitious glance at the front door that James wished he didn't see.

They fell into a somewhat uncomfortable silence into which Sirius blurted: "So James announced your good news. Congratulations, Lily, really."

James caught her eye and looked away quickly, swallowing hard.

"Thank you, Sirius." He could hear in her voice that she was smiling and he wished he could muster the same strength to do so. "I assume he told you what we talked about. Do accept, it would mean so much to James, to us…"

James shot an apologetic look to his friend who seemed somewhere between anxiety and complete mystification.

"Erm…"

"About being the godfather…remember?"

At this Sirius stepped back as if he'd been walloped by a Bludger.

"Godfather – what – I…well, blimey." Catching James's desperate look he recovered quickly. "Of course. Yes, of course. I'm honored. Thank you."

Lily clapped her hands, delighted. "This deserves a drink, Padfoot, even if you can't stay for supper. Butterbeer for me, of course," she added, beaming, and headed for the kitchen.

Alone again, the two friends stared at each across the room. What passed between them was unseen, but finally Sirius looked away.

"I'm honored, James. Thank you." His voice was rougher than usual. James turned away as the other man cleared his throat.

Lily bustled back into the room with a tray of drinks. Two glasses of champagne and frothing bottle rose in the air in celebration. One hand shook. James down the champagne in one.

Afterwards, Lily recounted the night's events. Her voice shook as she reported that Alice had been injured quite badly by a Death Eater's curse and would be spending the New Year in St. Mungo's. James met Sirius's look across the table and gripped his wife's hand.

"Moody is laboring under the delusion that because of our," she motioned around the house, "_situation_, we shouldn't be doing active patrols anymore."

James cleared his throat and began examining his hands.

She snorted, derisively. "Complete and utter bollocks, if you ask me. If we all tucked tail and hid nothing would ever get done."

Another silence, once again interrupted by Sirius who stood, tucking his hands into his leather jacket.

"I've really got to be off, Lily. Thank you for the drink. And congratulations again. James…"

James nodded, rose and walked his friend through the kitchen to the back door. Sirius stood on the threshold, head back, eyes closed. After a while he turned to James, smiling cryptically.

"It's a complicated, dangerous thing, living. All this hate and terror and fear going around. But life has to keep going. We have to love and trust and be happy when the opportunity comes because who the hell knows when it'll happen again. If we can't do that then…well, then they've already won."

He stared at James, who didn't trust himself to speak. And then he laughed, clapped him on the back and tramped out into the inky night.

"I'll be talking to you soon," Sirius called over the roar of the bike's engine. "I want to be kept updated on what's going on with my little godson or daughter in there."

"Hold on a moment," James shouted, suddenly remembering. "What was it you wanted to talk about? What was it about Wormtail?"

"Rubbish. It can wait. Go inside to your wife James. Celebrate for the both of us!"

And with that he was gone, roaring off into the night. He passed the invisible protective barrier around the house and then even the sound of his bike was lost.

He was vaguely aware of the kitchen door opening.

"James Charlus Potter, I can_not_ believe you two drank this entire bottle." Lily was standing in the doorway holding the empty decanter that once contained a rather expensive bit of whiskey.

She nudged past him and glared into the sky. "He must be com_pletely_ pissed. And you let him fly off…"

Her diatribe was cut short as James kissed her full on the mouth. She stiffened a little, and then quickly relaxed into his arms. Without breaking contact James pulled the backdoor shut and walked her backwards into the sitting room.

Her eyes, sparkling clear emerald, watched him curiously as he conjured drapes out of thin air and sent them flying towards the front window. He turned back to her, brushing a few errant strands of her mahogany hair out of her face.

"No one can see us out there anyway, love," she said quietly.

He kissed her again, smiling when she pulled him onto the couch on top of her.

"That isn't the point, Lil. I want some private time with my wife. It just feels…better this way. Less exposed…less…"

"Paranoid," she finished quietly. "I know you're scared, James."

He sat up a little and she came with him.

"I am, too," she urged softly. "I'm terrified. I keep thinking of all the horrible things that are happening to people, that could happen to us…but…"

"…but we've got to live our lives. I'm happy about this, love. I am. Bloody hell, I'm going to be a dad."

She beamed.

They kissed once more, and when she drew him to her, up the stairs and into their bed, he followed; blissfully grateful that she was there, alive, loving him…

Afterwards, he wasn't all together sure that he had been as gentle as he should've been and he propped himself up on an elbow and stared down at her.

"I'm fine," she said sleepily, as if reading his mind. "We're fine."

He let his thumb trace the outline of her belly, still flat and taut. "What – what do you want to name, erm…it?"

She smacked him on the leg and buried her head in his chest. "Him, James. Not 'it'."

He tried to sit up but stopped at her argumentative moan. "How do you know it's a boy?"

"I just do," she yawned. "I can feel him already. I can almost see him. Weird, huh?"

"Yeah," he agreed, pulling the blanket up over them.

Stretching like a cat she curled herself around him and was still. Fear and pride battled inside James's head, and in the end he resorted to casting his litany of protective spells in complete silence.

He was almost asleep when Lily nudged him. "Pleasant surprise, seeing Padfoot. He's been gone so much. I can't help but feel a little guilty for that. What did he stop by for?"

"He said he wanted to talk to me about something," he murmured. "I told him our news and we just never got around to it."

"About what?"

Lily turned over, warming her cool back against his warm stomach. He grunted at the change and she giggled, entwining her feet with his as she always did.

"I dunno, really. Something…" he yawned, exhausted, "…something about Wormtail."


End file.
